Broken Shield
by WildYennifer
Summary: After the events of 3x15, watching Elena sleep, Stefan tries to understand what's become of their relationship. It inevitably leads to thoughts of Elena and Damon, and there are too many moments he can't ignore.


**A/N: Hey, everyone! Great to be back. I know I should be updating "Can't Let You Fall Apart." (It's been almost a month? I feel awful about it. But you should see my to-do list.) However, I had to get this one shot out of my head. It's a story about Damon and Elena from Stefan's POV, in a way, hence the "Main characters" section. On the other hand, it's a character study – my personal attempt at understanding Stefan and how the humanity switch works. The timeline is post 3x15.**

**There are quite big flashback sections here, but I'm not gonna italicize them, because they'll be difficult to read. I'll italicize only the first and the last several words of them.**

_Special thanks goes to _**CreepingMuse**_, who beta read it, gave me invaluable advice and support. And she's the only one__to blame that I started reading and writing character studies. ;)_

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><p><em>"Not that I'm so different,<em>

_Not that I don't see_

_The dying light of what we used to be -_

_But how could I forgive you?_

_You've changed!_

_And I'm a liar by your side._

_I'm about to lose my mind._

_~ Evanescence, "The Change" ~_

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><p>Stefan slipped into her window, noiseless and unnoticed. He had always thought it was creepy, not romantic, to watch his girlfriend sleep, but these days it was the only way to get close to her, to make sure the feelings he had for her were still there, unspoken, but unchanged. The nonexistent humanity switch only hid his emotions – it was powerless to destroy them.<p>

He sat on the edge of the bed, and even in her sleep, Elena shifted away instinctively. With a faint painful smile on his lips, Stefan thought of the time when his proximity hadn't had that effect on her, when she'd always reached for him. The flame of hope that had been burning behind the shield hiding his emotions from the world subsided a little now that Stefan saw he was this unpleasant to her even on some subconscious level.

This girl in front of him wasn't the one he had fallen in love with, anymore than he remained the man she had loved. She didn't deny it, nor did he – but the real question was not who they were now. It was whether this new Elena and this old-new Stefan had it in them to love each other, if not in the same way, then at least with the same fervor as before.

Stefan didn't know if either of them believed in that possibility anymore.

Everything he had loved about her remained – her kind heart, her unbreakable faith, her incredible ability to forgive, it was all still there, just complemented with things he didn't recognize. He had seen it in her eyes – the eyes that had watched him with concern and contempt at the same time. He had heard it in her voice – the voice in which she had told him, ruthless and steadfast, that she had kissed his brother.

Damon. The one who always wanted what Stefan wanted. The one who had always stepped back for him. The one who had saved him from Elena's hatred just a few hours before. Damon had ignored the fateful coin flip and turned Abby into a vampire on his own. It almost seemed like he had tried to atone for the strange connection that he and Elena had developed. Or like he didn't believe in that connection anymore.

Stefan's humanity was already back, as much as a part of him tried to push it back and never think of it again. He didn't even need that humanity to feel rage: it had become a basic emotion, instinctive and defensive. Rage was easy, it was a nice replacement for the hatred that he couldn't feel for his brother, and he gave in for a moment. That brief moment was all it took before his sense of reason overpowered the rage, and then Stefan couldn't control the direction of his thoughts anymore, nor could he deny the discoveries he made.

His selfishness had made him lie to Elena all along. He had never tried to sugarcoat any Damon's flaws, had never concealed his actions. He had done his best to portray his brother as a selfish, dangerous psychopath who couldn't be trusted. Now Stefan understood that in fact he had been portraying himself, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that somehow, despite her better judgment and Stefan's incessant warnings, Elena and Damon had grown close. Elena and that dangerous psychopath who had been there for her at the darkest moments, giving her hope, support and love, and demanding nothing in return.

Still, it didn't make any sense for Elena to fall in love with the man who had done so much to hurt her.

Except there were memories that Stefan couldn't simply ignore.

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><p><em><strong>He was compelled, again<strong>__, _and it didn't even feel unpleasant. The task was clear, but he hadn't decided how difficult it would be: "_Protect Elena. Don't let anyone or anything harm her._" He didn't love her at that moment – no, that part of him was buried deep inside and he didn't even want it to show. It was one thing to protect a woman he was in love with, and another thing to make sure a human blood bag stayed intact. The second way was a lot easier. His every instinct would be searching for danger around her, he would die for her if necessary, but it had nothing to do with his feelings.

He was sitting in his room when he heard Damon's car pull up, and then the quiet hum of a voice he used to love.

"No, really, Damon, I can walk… Damon!"

Then there were his brother's footsteps, heavier than usual, approaching the house. The front door opened and closed again. Stefan heard Damon walking across the parlor, and straining his ears a little more, he could hear two hearts beating at different speeds and quiet breathing. Good, he thought with the detachment of a surgeon. She's functioning – he didn't even think "living".

He heard Damon's footsteps again, interrupted for a brief moment by clinking glass.

"Some bourbon. It'll help you forget."

Damon's voice was quiet and velvety, and Stefan thought idly that his brother had turned into a pathetic fool because of that girl. Stefan had made this mistake, too – and he'd had his share of suffering that she brought into his life. Now the compulsion seemed to be a blessing rather than curse.

Elena made a small sound, and Damon added, "Yeah, it's… strong."

She sniffed but didn't say anything, and Damon was again the one to break the silence.

"You know I can help you forget, too. At least the memories you don't wanna keep."

What a hero, Stefan thought. That was exactly what Damon always did: started fucking with people's heads the moment things went wrong.

"No. No compulsion. I need to remember – all of it," she said without hesitating. Stefan didn't know or care why she needed to remember it – memories weren't dangerous, at least physically. He couldn't care less about her feelings.

He heard a clank of metal and Damon continued the conversation.

"Stole it back for you."

"He's really gone this time," Elena answered all but whispering, and it didn't make any sense at all. At least it couldn't have anything to do with what Damon had just said. She went on. "I watched it happen. After everything we went through to help him, now he's just… gone." She sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

Now it was clear she was talking about him. Stefan refused to be moved by this heart-rending speech. He wasn't gone. He was back. He was back to the world where everything was easy. Metal clanked again. Elena was silent for some time, trying to even her breathing but failing. When she finally spoke, her words had nothing to do with Stefan.

"Where were you, Damon?"

Stefan didn't care about her tears. They weren't harmful to her body, so they were none of his concern. Apparently, they were Damon's concern now, he thought, listening to his brother's answer and as he approached the parlor, trying to be silent.

"I shouldn't have left."

With maniacal precision Stefan enumerated to himself all the emotions he could hear in Damon's voice. Regret, tenderness, concern, love – everything that didn't bother Stefan anymore. He didn't enter the parlor, choosing to lean against the door frame instead – but Damon and Elena still didn't see or hear him. Even a vampire would need to strain to hear his heartbeat or breathing if they weren't near enough, but footsteps? It looked like his brother was too absorbed in his stolen moment with Elena to care.

"I promise you: I will _never_ leave you again," said Damon, and at that moment Stefan found it… funny. All the intentions in the world couldn't determine whether Damon stayed or left. When Stefan saw them both nod in silent agreement he couldn't understand, he decided to interfere.

"Well isn't this cozy?"

He didn't interrupt them because of jealousy – no, jealousy was something related to love, so he couldn't feel it. It was just some odd sensation that the scene in front of him was wrong. It wasn't supposed to be happening. Elena wasn't supposed to look into his brother's eyes, enthralled, without noticing Stefan appear in the doorway. And Damon wasn't supposed to be so concentrated on Stefan's (ex?) girlfriend that he failed to hear someone else in the house.

The scene didn't seem any less wrong when Elena's eyes, so tender and caring a moment ago, turned wary and almost scared when she looked at Stefan. Or when his brother stood up and faced him, his body language indicating that he was ready to protect Elena from Stefan. Lips curling into an arrogant smirk, Stefan held Damon's gaze and refused to look at the girl.

"What are you doing here, brother?" asked Damon, and the question did nothing to improve the scene. Feeling uncommonly cheeky, Stefan pretended to think hard, walking to his brother's liquor collection.

"Last I checked, I live here," he said and poured himself a glass of whiskey. "Klaus is gone, and he's asked me to keep watch on you until he returns." Elena still looked shocked. Not that it bothered him. "From now on, you're under my protection," he clarified, but for some reason it didn't relieve Elena – if anything, she was more confused. Stefan smirked again, still strangely glad to have his human emotions locked for the moment. Caring about nothing gave him an intoxicating sense of freedom – no responsibility, no regret.

And then he finally understood where the sensation of wrongness came from.

"By all means, carry on," he said in the same indifferent voice, accompanied by a careless gesture. Grinning, he walked out of the room.

The sensation he'd had all along had everything to do with the fact that while his instincts were supposed to watch for danger around Elena, they had all remained quiet when he had found her with Damon. His brother had stood between Elena and himself, and Stefan had let him, because Damon could protect her better. Because Damon was the one she needed.

Stefan was sure that if he could have any emotions at that very moment, _**his heart would be breaking**_.

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><p>Looking back to that scene, Stefan understood that it was the first time someone had chosen Damon over him.<p>

Elena, of all people, wanted Damon by her side, and he couldn't blame her. He had been compelled, which meant he was dangerous and unpredictable in her book. Stefan couldn't help wondering if that had been the first moment like this they had shared – and he laughed at himself. He had been gone for over two months. Damon had been with Elena all along, probably every single day. They'd had this undefinable "something" which Stefan had always been afraid of.

It was inevitable. Stefan Salvatore could be called a lot of things, but he definitely wasn't a delusional idiot.

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><p>"<em><strong>Well, if I told you, then it wouldn't be secret," <strong>_Stefan heard Damon say, and he smirked to himself. Did his brother really think that compulsion had messed with his brain rather than with some stupid excuse for soul a vampire could have? Did he think Stefan was an idiot who couldn't understand what was going on? The thing was, he didn't really care. As long as the outcome was as planned, Stefan wasn't going to deal with technicalities.

He came into the bathroom, not surprised at all to see Elena looking at the entrance as if she was waiting for him. Damon didn't acknowledge his presence.

"I need to borrow a tie," he informed them casually and leaned against the doorframe.

"You have your own ties," answered Damon, not even raising his head. Stefan was feeling one thing at that particular moment: he was very, very annoyed. He had already learned to feel irritation, and the feeling was refreshing in a way – these days it kept him going. This and a short moment of brotherly love that had made its way through compulsion to save Damon from Mikael.

"I'm a hundred and sixty-two years old and I'm going to a Homecoming Dance. I need better ties," Stefan explained as clearly as possible. The fact that the people he worked with on his freedom seemed to be idiots didn't really sit well with him.

"You could not go," said Elena, shrugging. Stefan knew her well enough to see that her brave demeanor was fake, but it didn't bother him. What bugged him was the fact that he was stuck with her because of the damn compulsion, and she was trying to mock him for protecting her. That added to his annoyance.

"I'm compelled to protect you," he reminded. "And if I look at your track record at high school dances, it's pretty tragic. With my luck, you'll go and get yourself murdered by the Homecoming Queen."

He left without waiting for her reaction, once again reveling in the fact that from now on he didn't need to watch his every word, to be considerate, to be a hero. Stefan tried to remember how hard it had been, the burden of responsibility, but for some reason he couldn't. Elena and Damon were bickering about grenades in the bathroom, but neither of them sounded angry. Stefan thought of anger as a feeling. It would be nice to exercise it. It would be a step up from irritation, but it was too strong. If he let it escape, there was a risk the rest of emotions would rush back to the surface, and he just couldn't allow himself to care.

Not now. Not after he went to the bathroom again to take part in the discussion and Elena didn't even look at him, _**her eyes never leaving Damon**_.

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><p>The compulsion had been a blessing – now he had no doubt about it. This way he hadn't even blinked seeing them together, perfectly at ease, comfortable around each other. This way, with the memory of the compulsion still fresh, he had been able to tell Elena he hadn't cared about Jeremy or her. He had forbidden himself to think of her feelings, threatening to kill her on the bridge where her parents had died. None of those things had made him let his emotions out of their dark prison in his heart – yet.<p>

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><p>"<em><strong>There's something I have to tell you,"<strong>_ said Elena, sounding tired – the day's events already started taking their toll. Stefan had a hard time concentrating on her words, because the damn splinters seemed to be burning his chest. "And it's not because I feel guilty that it happened… it's just I feel guilty you don't know." She pulled a piece of wood out of his chest, hesitating, and the pain wasn't enough to distract him this time. She inhaled deeply and confessed. "I kissed Damon."

And that was the only thing that got through to him, got through the emotional shield and pain to his real self. It was the only thing that his selfishness, the selfishness that had been helping him remain a machine, could not stand. It cracked, finally giving way to what he felt.

The very first emotion was regret. He had always been like this. When he did something wrong, it was usually unfixable; he regretted it sincerely, deeply – every single time, and it was worse than anything he could feel. (Or was it just easier than dealing with the consequences?) His regret made him start apologizing for what he had done – but for some reason forgiveness wasn't enough this time.

He made sure all the emotions were locked before going to see Damon. It seemed so easy – he had gotten used to keeping them in check – to being as different from a human being as possible.

They talked about Klaus, the coffins, and Stefan managed to keep the façade, pushing the unwelcome thoughts away from his mind – until one question broke it all.

"Is Elena okay?" asked Damon, and blinding, all-consuming rage clouded Stefan's whole being, his mind and his soul. He punched his brother in the face so hard that Damon had to bend down, pressing a hand to his cheek. That didn't concern Stefan at all.

What concerned him was the emotion that he'd let loose and the power behind it. He knew _**he wouldn't be able to "flip the switch" anymore**_.

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><p><em><strong>The next trial was the dinner<strong>_ with Klaus and Elijah. He didn't know if he could do it, if he could control his emotions. The feelings were too much to deal with, because now they were all there, one step from breaking free: hatred and love, jealousy and envy.

"Stefan, where is the lovely Elena tonight?" asked Elijah, and Stefan tried to play it cool.

"I don't know. Ask Damon."

Elijah looked politely interested and even a little surprised – as if it was indeed just a dinner party where old friends gathered to catch up on the news. Klaus laughed.

"I'm sorry, you've missed so much. Trouble in paradise," he joked, and Stefan felt that he would break in a minute if the conversation went on.

"One more word about Elena and this dinner's over."

"You know what, probably best just to keep Elena in the 'do not discuss' pile," Damon agreed.

Stefan knew that if anyone could truly understand the strange condition he was in, it was Damon. His brother was tense and wary, waiting for Stefan to lose control. Stefan held on to everything that he had known since Klaus forced the switch off – hollowness and indifference. It helped.

At the end of the night, walking in the woods, Stefan still remembered Klaus' words: "But in the end we realized the sacred bond of family." This was the real question, wasn't it? Who of them would love his brother more – not more than Elena, but more than himself? Who would value the other's happiness over his own?

Stefan had never even considered stepping back for Damon's sake. He had always assumed that Damon would do anything to get what he wanted. What had changed Damon's mind?

"You could have left me there. Klaus would have killed me and you would have had Elena all to yourself," said Stefan, sensing how unnatural the words sounded the moment they left his mouth. His brother could never do it. And when Damon's phone went off, Elena's name on the screen, Damon ignored the call.

"I didn't do it on your account," he clarified quickly, and Stefan believed him. He believed that Damon wouldn't step back anymore. Maybe because of Damon's reaction to Klaus' idea that Elena would be better off with Matt, or because of the emotion written clearly in Damon's eyes every time he said her name – it would be a fair fight from now on.

But how could he fight for her with his own brother? How could he let history repeat itself? How could he forget everything that Damon had done for him and for Elena?

Honestly, he couldn't understand anymore what emotions he really felt and what he only knew he could feel.

"I love her, Damon."

He stated the obvious, for they both knew it. Damon didn't say anything new, either.

"So do I," he said, and walked away.

There was no way both of them would _**be happy in the end**_.

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><p>Elena stirred in her sleep and sighed, frowning as if she was in pain. Stefan wasn't surprised. She had endured more than he'd thought possible. She had made a lot of hard decisions. She had lost so many people, including him. The Elena Stefan had known would have broken, fighting the world alone.<p>

Except she wasn't alone.

He thought of the Mikaelson ball – the party that had turned into a night of pain.

It had hurt more than it should have when Elena had accepted Damon's hand and let him lead her to the dance floor.

It had hurt more than it should have when she had asked Stefan to help her get to Esther because he didn't care about her.

It hadn't surprised him at all that her face had been pained when she'd looked at Damon's lifeless body on the floor. Now she had the same expression in her sleep, and he couldn't caress her cheek to chase the nightmares away. It wasn't right.

He had told Damon that his emotions had made him a weak link, but the truth was, Stefan had been envious. Because even though Elena had tried to persuade him to feel, not knowing the whole truth, she hadn't done it for _them_. She had wanted Stefan to be happy, but it wasn't about their love. He couldn't blame her.

Elena had always had faith in Damon – so much more than anyone else ever had. It was partly her faith that had made Damon the person he was now. But her faith had been not enough to help Stefan.

In the end, Damon was the better man. And just a few hours ago, he had proven it again. Damon probably thought that turning Abby would make Elena hate him, and it would be easier. Looking at his track record, Stefan doubted that anything could make her hate his brother. Not even killing her best friend's mother. Definitely not having fun with Rebekah. Damon might as well give up trying to evoke her hatred.

"You know, you're not fooling anyone either. You still love her, Damon," Stefan had told him. Why? He didn't know. Perhaps, he had felt the need to repay his brother's favor.

"I do," Damon had answered, and it had almost hurt to hear his voice so hopeless. "And I thought I could win her from you fair and square. She didn't want me. It's for the best. I'm better at being the bad guy anyway."

Damon had left the room. He just didn't understand, Stefan thought. It had probably never come to his mind: at the end of the day, for Damon, it wasn't about winning her _from _anyone anymore.

Elena's face was peaceful now – as if her life hadn't turned into a nightmare, as if she was happy. She looked beautiful; kindness and forgiveness were written all over her face, and Stefan thought of the moment when they had gotten acquainted. There had been interest, there had been attraction, and on top of that, a feeling of destiny. Like they were meant to be together.

Maybe he was wrong to give up fighting. Stefan remembered how happy they had made each other, how perfect they had seemed to be. Could he be the right choice, after all?

Elena whispered something, and even Stefan's vampire hearing couldn't help him make out what it was. He strained his ears, catching every sound in the room.

"Damon."

He knew that voice of hers very well. That tender, caring, loving voice.

He wouldn't deal with the consequences, again.

Stefan turned around, climbed out of the window and walked away, never looking back.

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><p><em><strong>I hope you liked it and I would really like to read what you think. You know how to share your opinion. ;) For those who are looking forward to "Can't Let You Fall Apart" – I hope to publish the next chapter on Wednesday. And for those who love Evanescence or music in general - "The Change" is a great StefanElena closure song, in my opinion. Just a recommendation. ;)**_


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